FIRST PERSON
Six outlines for ten minute interactive dramas by David Lowe, based on ideas by David Lowe, Jason Wheatley and Amanda Morris
© David Lowe, 21/11/1997
NAMING RIGHTS/WHAT'S IN A NAME?
It's your first night in your new house, an old terrace in the inner city. There's a message on the answering machine from your partner to say he/she has been delayed interstate with the removal truck and won't be there until tomorrow. You're by yourself, and it's a bit spooky.
Outside are the sounds of the city, as well as those of an approaching storm, which builds through the course of the experience and then passes and subsides at the end. It starts with a low, keening wind.
Use the keyboard or mouse to look around. Look up or down. The first thing you notice is that the nameplate next to the front door is missing. Inside, the house is pretty much empty (your furniture hasn't arrived yet). The fireplace is bricked up.
There are few signs of the previous occupants - an old sepia picture of a wedding couple on one of the walls, a stain on the floor, a rusty stove, a heavy wardrobe in the attic, a broken rocking chair in the laundry, some peeling wallpaper with old newspapers underneath... Beneath the house is a damp cellar with a rusty knife in one corner. The floor of the cellar is worn in several places, revealing the wet soil.
You write a note to yourself: 'Find a name for the house'. As you wander around and look at things, certain objects motivate the ghosts of previous occupants to appear. What they say and whether they appear is affected by the order you reach them, and is also somewhat random, creating a fresh experience each time you enter the house.
The ghosts are semi-transparent/luminescent, and are performed by actors. The user cannot interact with the ghosts, but can only trigger them to appear. Each ghost has more than one story to tell, but all the stories focus on that ghost's suggestion for what the house should be named. Each ghost is associated with a particular object or environment, such as:
The old picture: an old couple (who are young in the wedding picture) talk about how they lived happily in the house for many years; their only regret was that they were unable to have children. Their suggested name for the house is Rosalie, for the roses which used to twine through the ironwork outside.
The stain on the floor: a bloodstain from a domestic fight between an Italian couple in the 1950s. The story has a happy ending, in that the woman left and lived happily elsewhere. She feels that living here gave her the strength to face up to things. Her name for the house is Resolution (in Italian).
The stove: suicide of lonely man in recent times. He says the house is cursed. Always damp and depressing. Reckons his whole life went bad after he moved here. Says the house should be called Limbo.
The peeling wallpaper: relates a story from the plague period in 1900, when everyone in the house died, one by one. The story is told by a little girl who says the plague wasn't the house's fault. She remembers happy times there, and says the house's name is Swansea, after the place the family came from.
The soil beneath the cellar floor: an Eora Aboriginal woman tells you about her understanding of the place in pre-European times. Says the place has a positive energy if understood and respected. Says the place is called Doongorwah, meaning a rock with water running over it (a literal description of the site as it once was)...
You decide what to name the house this time round. The name is recorded for the next visitor...
BIOGRAPHER
You are a journalist. Your job is to interview a man who has a reputation as a homicidal/ genocidal maniac, but who claims he's just had a bad press. He's a fictional character, possibly modelled on a Albert Speer or Konrad Kalejs or Pol Pot or Charles Sobraj-type figure. In other words, an alleged war criminal or charismatic alleged serial killer. He looks like Peter Ustinov; a genial old man. His name is Yuri Knox.
Despite (or more likely because of his alleged crimes) Knox has become a media superstar. He uses people like you to help his fight to get out of jail and avoid extradition.
He's currently locked up for minor tax evasion crimes - his major alleged offences were all committed in another country. He's one of those figures whose coverage continually straddles the awkward boundaries between news, PR and entertainment.
You are told at the start of the interview that Knox doesn't want to be asked questions, but will make a prepared statement. Your job is to take notes. You are warned that Knox can read upside-down, and may take offence if you show too much interest in the wrong areas. He talks widely about his life, brushing over huge issues like whether he's been responsible for the violent deaths of large numbers of people.
As Knox speaks, you take notes via the keyboard. The words you type trigger different paths of reminiscence. Some paths will show only the amiable Knox, but if you enrage him you'll get a glimpse of the monster lurking within.
Because of continuity problems with branching, it may not be possible to have Knox in the room with you. In this case he will appear via a jerky two-way videophone. Either way, he will be a tangible and sometimes threatening presence.
If you are a fast typist, you may be able to keep up with everything Knox says, triggering no deviations from the central spine of the script. However if you type only certain keywords, and omit others, he will delve deeper into those areas. If you type words which relate to what Knox is brushing over (or isn't discussing at all), such as 'genocide', 'guilt?', 'murder', or the names of any of his alleged victims, then he might clam up completely and terminate the interview, or you might get the scoop of the century.
Knox is a person of broad intelligence and intellect. He's a real renaissance man, and has possibly worked as an architect or concert pianist. Possibly he was a journalist himself at some stage. Although his claims of innocence are repeated too often and too loudly to be believed, his fame and reputation have cowed many a journalist in the past.
Are you going to join them, or will you risk getting on Knox's hit list? The fluidity of the interaction will make it hard for you to see, in some cases, how your input has influenced the outcome. Only on the second or third run through will you realise how differently the story can be told.
Another possibility is to design the experience so that you, the journalist, are able to directly question Knox, leading to more traditional direct confrontation if you broach certain areas with him. This style of interaction could also be achieved via the keyword approach, and wouldn't require direct voice contact. Being a politician at heart, Knox rarely answers questions directly, and is usually a bit wired anyway, so there should be a minimum of 'I don't know' style responses...
TEN MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT
It's New Year's Eve, 1999. You are a Lifeline-style videophone counsellor, stressed out and under-resourced as midnight approaches and people all over Australia contemplate suicide. To make matters worse, it's your first night on the job, and your supervisor is looking over your shoulder.
There are four calls waiting to be dealt with at any one time, each represented by a small monitor in front of you. To deal with any one call, you have to put the other three on hold. Along with the real people in trouble, there are people with apparently insignificant problems and hoaxers.
Because you're a trainee, you can't say whatever you want, but have to quickly select multiple choice text responses that are being offered up by the senior counsellor sitting opposite you (possibly the same person as the supervisor). These appear as text boxes overlaying the video of the main client. Once selected, they are converted into voice data and transmitted down the line. It's a bit like a real-life training situation.
Client #1: A middle-aged guy called Robert who's taken a bottle of pills and wants to talk to someone while he dies. He's paranoid about you finding out where he is and sending the emergency services. He doesn't want to be kept on the line long enough to be traced, and has covered the lens of the videophone so you can't see his location (or maybe he's covered the inside of the videophone with white plastic so he could be anywhere). Keep him on the line and send the emergency services or this one's going to die on you. He's getting slower already...
Client #2: An old lady called Mary who can't afford to feed all her cats and is contemplating ending it all. She's also got neighbours from hell who have a large dog which terrifies her every time she contemplates going outside. You can hear it barking. Talk Mary into de-sexing the cats, contacting the RSPCA, or help her find something to eat. Alternately, ignore her. Maybe she'll go away, or maybe she'll put her head in the oven...
Client #3: A young bloke with a gun called Wayne is thinking of killing himself and his young wife and child as well. Why shouldn't he? What's he got to live for? They're poor and it's all hopeless. The answer lies in noticing what's on the wall behind him. He's got a collection of something or other (gold albums, stamps, model cars, stuffed animals). If you can get him on to this pet subject, you might distract him for long enough for the cops to rush the building and save the family.
Client #4: A young woman called Emma has been raped by her boyfriend or a stranger and feels disgusted with herself and the world generally. Maybe she's just a silly adolescent, or maybe she's serious. Deadly serious. Hang on, though. You can hear someone laughing in the background. Perhaps it's all a hoax?
If you deal with that lot, there's more happy customers waiting in line. Keep them all alive for ten minutes (until midnight) and you've reached the end of your shift. If you fail, log on and try again. But maybe there is no happy ending. Perhaps it's an endless loop which you can never win; a pre-taped examination program with actors faking emergencies so your supervisors can study you under stress...
NEWSREADER'S NIGHTMARE
You're a newsreader, watching the autocue and delivering the nightly bulletin. You can also see a monitor showing electronic teletype with late-breaking news headlines (supported by stills and video), and another monitor showing whatever is going to air; sometimes your own increasingly nervous image, sometimes cutaways to live cameras outside the studio, sometimes story segment vision.
Along with all these sources of visual information, you also have to contend with the continual nagging voice of the director in your ear. The problem is that he's giving you contradictory information; asking you to bypass what's written in the autocue with his own ludicrous-sounding late-breaking story, about some kind of War of the Worlds-type alien invasion. Is it really the director or an impostor?
Your choice is either to follow the story as written (click your mouse on the autocue) or say what the director's telling you to say (click your mouse on the loudhailer/director's chair icon). You hear yourself speak. Now more information begins to bombard you; one monitor starts showing headlines like 'Newsreader Goes Insane - Mental Illness Suspected' or 'Thousands Die in Stampede'. Then vision of invading alien spaceships appears. Perhaps you start getting news from the future...
Suddenly another director's voice starts going off in your head giving you more contradictory information while the first director asks you what the hell you're doing. You wonder if you're going insane. Are the voices the result of some schizophrenic episode? Perhaps you're imagining the other director? Or could this second voice some weird telepathic weapon of the invading aliens?
The different stories go in increasingly divergent directions, determined by which information stream you click on at which point. You can't stop speaking. If you don't select anything, then a klaxon goes off and red lights flash - the station goes into panic mode and the director/s scream at you. You can't go off-air for more than a few moments either. This is a CNN-style, international, 24 hours news station - there are no ad breaks. Whatever you do select has consequences in the real world, which are brought home to you via the story segments and live OB cameras.
Another possibility is that you are a News-Bot; a Max Headroom/cyber model type figure who speaks in a computer voice.
One of the news stories might relate to a group of protesting ex- newsreaders who have formed a picket-line outside the station and are threatening to riot or burn down the station unless you're taken off air. Perhaps they're the ones who are transmitting the rogue voices into your head and trying to send you crazy? Certainly there are plenty of people who would like to see you fail.
Another advantage of this approach is that it would allow the player to edit the autocue and create their own stream of news with the keyboard, instantly spoken in a computer voice with funny sampled syntax. Keywords could be programmed in and designed to trigger reactions from the directors or the wider world...
GHOST IN THE MACHINE
You've stolen someone's hard drive, or been given one under suspicious circumstances, possibly at the price of your soul. When you boot it up, and type in your own registration details (name, sex, etc) it conjures up one of three demonic figures; a gorgeous but dangerous siren, a Freddie Krueger-ish nightmare figure, or an annoying/clownish presence.
Is this an elaborate virus? A booby trap left by the original owner? Some kind of genie in the machine? Or is it part of the owner's personality, downloaded into this hard drive because he didn't want to deal with on a day to day level, but couldn't bear to part with it? Maybe it's the original owner's conscience? What are you going to do? How are you going to get rid of it?!
To get rid of the demon, you must answer a series of questions, each of which relates to a particular ethical problem. Each 'problem' is dramatised with actors in a very graphical and intense way, and then left hanging at a freeze frame, pending your decision.
Multiple choice questions might include:
If your wife and child were drowning in an icy lake, and you could rescue only one of them, who would you rescue?
What if an ATM gave you $100 by mistake. Would you give it back to the bank? Donate it to charity? Keep it?
If you were about to go for a promotion and you realised your employer was corrupt, would you go to the authorities or keep quiet?
If the gymnasium near your house was surrounded with barbed wire, then had a chimney added to the roof, then you saw trucks going in with people and no one coming out, and none of your neighbours thought there was anything strange about any of this, would you do anything?
If you woke up one morning and found a knife in your hand, and your clothes covered in blood, and your family dead, would you go to the police or run away?
If you were a doctor, and had enough blood for a transfusion to save the life of a rich old woman who offered you one million dollars to save her, a young girl with nothing or a middle-aged man whose death might lead to a civil war, who would you choose to save?
If you triggered a timed release land mine which was going to blow up in two seconds, and you could save the lives of your family by throwing yourself on it, or save yourself by running away, what would you do?
You're a defence barrister who knows his client is a killer. No one else has access to the key evidence. Do you defend him and get him off, or do you go public with your information?
If you had to lose one of your senses, would it be your sense of taste, smell, touch, sight, or hearing?
Your answers to these and other questions create a woman's magazine-style profile of you which the demon uses to decide whether you're a fit and proper person to go on owning a working computer or not. Depending on the particular demon's personality, or your answers, it might fry your system (sound effects and vision of computer meltdown) or give you a complimentary upgrade (again, fake but realistic-looking upgrade windows). Then the demon disappears... until next time.
AVATAR MASKED BALL
In the future, things are more civilised than the bad old days. Men and women no longer meet each other in singles bars and make mating decisions based on things like physical appearance and pheromones, but find companionship in more cerebral ways. (The powers that be have found that you end up with a better class of citizen that way).
The only problem is that there aren't so many humans to go round since World War 4. Some will inevitably end up with robotic partners. Still, there are a few people who are into that sort of thing...
According to state regulations, you're stuck with whoever you choose for life. If the person turns out to be a robot, bad luck. There's only one place and time where humans (and desperate robots) can meet. It's the Avatar Masked Ball. This is your big, and only chance.
The music is wonderful and the desperate and dateless are all here, lost in a baroque whirl. Everyone is represented by an avatar of some kind. Most participants choose human figures wearing formal attire and masks to represent themselves, but some look like dinosaurs or giant sunflowers. This doesn't mean they're not human. Remember, whatever you do in this place, don't judge a book by its cover.
Find someone you like the look of, and take them for a whirl around the floor. Alternately, they might ask you for a dance. While you're dancing, each of you can ask your dancing partner three questions. These can be selected from drop-down menus, relating to everything from preferred sexual positions to favourite music, aspirations, least-hated domestic duties and last year's taxable income. Of course either of you might be lying in your answers.
After the questions have been asked and answered, you'll need to decide whether to select that partner, or find someone else. But don't take too long. In ten minutes, you have to choose someone or you'll be alone for life.
After you've made your choice, the masks come off and you find out who you've ended up with in a quick psychological and physical profile. Maybe you've got lucky. More likely it's a nasty surprise. Then you whip forward ten, twenty, fifty years, to find out how things turned out. Maybe you got an ugly android but learned to love each other and lived happily ever after, or maybe you got someone who seemed promising but turned out to be a dud in the bed department.
This environment could be designed as a closed, pre-determined system, or there could be a number of real people in there interacting with the computer beings and each other at any one time. This would make it possible for real relationships to also spring from the masked ball.
Perhaps people could enter email addresses and other details (M/F etc) at the outset, when they arrive at the ball. If they end up finding another human, then all to the better. If they end up with a robot, and decide not to take it further, the system could be automated to send emails from that robot character to annoy the person for ever more!© David Lowe, 21 November 1997